


Of Swords and Shields

by Dellessa



Series: Autonomy [9]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Alternate Universe - Slavery, Dubious Consent, Genderbending, M/M, Slavery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-25
Updated: 2015-05-09
Packaged: 2018-03-19 15:10:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3614526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dellessa/pseuds/Dellessa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The campaign had been a long one, and Megatron was more than ready to be back on Cybertron. The Quints had finally fled, skulking back to Quintessa. The Star Saber was warm in his hand, the living metal pulsing gently. It’s field intermingling with his own. She was not happy, but she rarely was when energon was not running across her blade. If he did not know better he would suspect that she was the very creation of Unicron himself, but Primus still claimed her despite her blood thirsty nature.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thepheonixqueen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepheonixqueen/gifts).



The campaign had been a long one, and Megatron was more than ready to be back on Cybertron. The Quints had finally fled, skulking back to Quintessa. The Star Saber was warm in his hand, the living metal pulsing gently. It’s field intermingling with his own. She was not happy, but she rarely was when energon was not running across her blade. If he did not know better he would suspect that she was the very creation of Unicron himself, but Primus still claimed her despite her blood thirsty nature. 

The Protector heaved a sigh. It was time to go home and see what his Magnus and Prime were up to. What mess had they made in his absence? Last time he had left the incident with Praxus had happened. It was barbaric even by Kaonite standards, and yet the Prime refused to put an end to it. Sentinel was always a cruel mech. It made Megatron wonder why he had been selected by the Matrix. He would have even doubted the validity of the claim had he not shared sparks with the mech. It still made his plating crawl to think about it. 

He turned and headed to the shuttle, but stopped as he felt another pulse from Star Saber. A vision unfurled before his optics and he was left staring as a small mech with blue and red plating. A grounder. The mech in his vision looked up meeting his gaze. Megatron’s spark hammered under his chestplates. His spark knew this mech, craved this mech like he had no other. The vision was gone as soon as it had began. The Star Saber’s field pulsed out smugly, amused at Megatron’s bewilderment. 

*Ours* it sang in his processor. It so rarely spoke to him thusly, it made Megatron stiffen, armour clamping down hard enough to bruise the protoform below. 

“I don’t understand,” he said out loud. 

*Ours.* It insisted. *Find him.*

Megatron did not even know where to begin, but he had no choice. He would search to the end of the galaxy, if necessary.

****************

__  
**Five hundred vorns later...**  


Orion busied himself tidying Ultra Magnus’ study. His master seemed distracted lately, and Orion wanted to do anything that he could to ease the mech’s burden. He worked so hard. Had so many responsibilities. 

“Orion? What are you doing? We must go to the meeting. Please stop dawdling. I don’t have all day.” 

“I’m sorry master,” Orion whispered. “I forgot. I will do better next time.” 

“See that you do. I have enough problems trying to corral Nova Prime, and that blasted Protector. You would think he would have the decency to offline. Mechs positively ancient.”

“Is he older than Alpha Trion?” Orion whispered in awe. He liked the old mech. He would sneak him energon treats and rust sticks when Ultra was not looking. He seemed kind, and always looked at Orion with the saddest optics. 

Ultra snorted, “No mech is older than that old coot, but I would wager that Megatron is close. Mech’s outlived nine Primes and six Magnuses. Has an uncanny chance of just staying online. It’s annoying at best.” He put a hand on Orion’s shoulder pauldron and steered him towards the door. “You will be a good mech while we are there. I don’t want to hear a peep from you.” 

“Yes, master. Will I be serving the energon this time?” Orion asked. 

“No. You will be there purely there for...entertainment.” 

Orion nodded, not trusting his vocalizer to work. 

“Orion, when I speak to you. I expect an answer. Do you understand?” Ultra snapped, his temper far shorter than normal. 

“I understand, master,” Orion finally said, hands clenching together. “Thank you for letting me be of service.” 

Ultra did not look pacified. Orion knew that look on his face. He opened his mouth to speak and nothing came out. The tell tale hum of the collar told Orion all he needed to know. He was being punished, an entire night of silence. 

Orion tried not to sulk as Ultra fastened the leash on his collar and he was led away.

****************

Megatron was running late, but he could not bring himself to care. He hated these meetings with his co-rulers. They were as bad as the council meetings he was forced to attend. He had better things to do that listen to the two blowhards prattle on about things he just didn’t care about. The Star Saber pulsed against his back, equally annoyed at the state of things. She had a short temper these sols. It had been far too long since she had drank deeply.

He walked in, and found the mechs in question chatting loudly, already overcharged. He nearly missed the mech under the table. He might have even missed him entirely had he not spotted the movement of doorwings, and had she not stirred to life, eager and pulsing against his back. *Ours! OURS!* 

Megatron froze, and stared at the mech beneath the table, watched in horror as he eagerly took Ultra’s spike down his intake. He knew that face. He knew that plating, and he was suddenly sick to his tank. The vision had not shown the mech’s doorwings. He had never thought to look in Praxus. Never imagined that the mech he was meant for would be sold, and degraded. The rage from the Saber jarred him out of a near glitch. “Ultra, Nova, you both look...well.” 

“See something you like?” Ultra smirked. “You can take a turn with him, if you like...after Nova is done, of course.” 

Megatron growled deep in his chestplates, “No. This is...this is not right. They are sentient beings.” 

Ultra rolled his optics. “Not this again. You are repetitive. I will give you that.” 

“Let me buy him from you then.” Megatron said. 

“Not in a million vorns. You have nothing I want, old mech.” 

The little mech had stop sucking on Ultra’s spike and was staring out from under the table, his bright, blue optics were wide with an emotion that Megatron did not dare name. 

Ultra Magnus tapped him on the helm hard enough to make the mech wince, “Did I tell you to stop?” 

The mech gripped Ultra Magnus’ spike, but his optics stayed on Megatron. The Protector felt his spark lurch at that stare. He couldn't stand to watch, but it was impossible to look away. 

Ultra groaned, and grabbed one of the mech’s audials, crimping the delicate metal and making the mech wince, and Megatron along with him. Ultra didn’t seem to notice. He thrust up, chasing his own overload. 

“I’m sure he will be done soon,” Nova said in a bored tone, “And then we can get this over with. I don’t know about you, but I have better things to be doing.” 

Megatron grunted as he sat down. The councillors entered bringing the paperwork with them, and around that time Megatron zoned out. It was just too much. He couldn’t concentrate, and he couldn’t look Ultra in the face. Not with his tank rolling the way it was. He wanted to just take the mech and run, but that was not an option. The Star Saber was little help. The relic grumbled angrily in his processor. 

*Ours! How DARE they!*

*Patience I will find a way. Patience,* Megatron tried to sooth it. It hissed as angrily as a cybercat, and raged while he sat there and tried to concentrate on what new laws the council wanted them to pass. It was an impossible task which only lead to a processor ache for Megatron, that was nearly as bad as the raw pain in his spark.

****************

Megatron paid close attention to Ultra and even went so far as to have some of his best spies begin to follow the mech and find out just what price he would have to pay to have his destined mate at his side.

He turned his attention back to the other mechs occupying the room. Kup waited patiently, Viewfinder hovering behind him. 

“Well? What have you found?” Megatron asked at last. 

“Ultra has repeatedly tried to purchase a---mech from Perceptor. He’s called Rodimus,” Kup said, and produced a datapad from his subspace. “We think that is the price Ultra would be willing to pay for Orion. He has offered a substantial amount of credits for him. Perceptor isn’t going to sell. He does not like Ultra in the least. Not after he cut back the funding for the Academy.” 

Megatron hummed, “I see. And the Academy would be a good way to obtain this mech from Perceptor.” 

“We believe so, Protector. He is only keeping the mech to spite Ultra. He takes him to the pet shows just to hold it over Ultra’s helm,” Viewfinder said and winced. “Ultra takes Orion to them as well. He does not treat the mech well.” 

“What do you mean?” Megatron frowned. 

Kup and his bonded exchanged a glance, and finally Kup offered Megatron a second datapad. “We recorded the pet show we attended.” There was no mistaking the distaste in Kup’s voice. 

Megatron didn’t hide the growl as he shifted through the image captures. Orion looked miserable in each one. Clearly he did not enjoy pain, but Ultra seemed to revel in inflicting it. Megatron flicked it off unable to look at it any longer. “Reflector, you will approach him about my willingness to fund the academy...and it’s price.” It disgusted him to have to trade a life for a life, but he would do anything to free the mech from his vision. 

“As you wish, Protector,” Viewfinder bowed.

****************

Ultra Magnus seemed agitated since he had taken the call with the Lord High Protector. Orion had little idea what had been so upsetting though, as his master had ordered him from the room. Orion hunched in the little pet bed at the foot of his master’s berth and fretted until he was finally called to his master’s side.

“I’m sorry, Orion. The offer was just too high. I’m sure he will treat you well,” the mech said and clipped on the leash to Orion’s collar. 

“Master?” 

“We must leave now. Come along. He is waiting. They are waiting,” at that Ultra Magnus’ optics brightened. 

“Where are we going, master? Is something w-wrong?” Orion’s armour clamped down hard in dread. Ultra was acting so bizarre. 

“Nothing is wrong, Orion. Megatron has obtained something I desire, and I’m sorry to say that his price is you. I am sorry. You have been a faithful slave.” 

Orion gasped, a keening sound escaping his vocalizer, “Master? Please! Have I displeased you so much that you would do this? Whatever I have done I will make amends. Please don’t do this. Please.” 

“It is already done, Orion. The transaction has been made. He is waiting for you.” 

Orion followed in a daze. He sat on the floor of the transport huddled into as small of a ball as he could make. It hurt that Ultra would just throw him away like this. he had thought that the mech cared about him. Hoped that he had. The ride was far too short. Horribly short. Soon Orion found himself following Ultra Magnus through the halls of the Citadel. The halls were large and echoing. Big enough for even the biggest of warframes to pass through easily. It was overwhelming, as was the mech that awaited them. 

He towered over even Magnus. Orion recognized him immediately as the mech from the meeting. The one that had refused to use him like the others. He wasn’t sure how to feel about it. His spark gave an odd tug, one that left him rubbing his chestplates. 

“Megatron,” Magnus said, stopping. “Where is he?” 

“Come, Rodimus,” Megatron said, looking behind him. 

Orion frowned as the mech stepped out from where he was hiding. He wasn’t even a Praxian!

“I won’t be your slave,” the red bot said looking up to a Ultra. 

The blue mech stiffened, “You lied to me! You said---” 

“I said I would get Rodimus’ for you. And I have. We have prepared a betrothal contract. It’s a fair one, if you would like to read through it. In addition you will get all the credit from his rescue. It will put you...us on very good terms with the Camiens,” Megatron said, and pushed the datapad at Ultra Magnus. 

“You did send many delegations to Caminus,” Rodimus said. “I am sure that I can get the Mistress of Flame to agree to the terms you set out, and I really would like to stay here. I don’t want to go home,” Rodimus said. “And I would like to get to know you...I mean...if you want me.” 

Ultra stared, and as he tried to connect the dots, “Your Camien?” 

“Well yes.” 

“Your a femme? You don’t look like a femme,” Ultra said, and gave Megatron a sidelong glance as if he thought the Protector put Rodimus up to this farce.

Rodimus glared, “Of course I am.” 

“Then how did you get here,” Ultra said, looking doubtful. “Why didn’t you tell anyone you were not a Praxian?” 

“I ran away from home. I’m the youngest and they were going to make me go to the temple. It’s tradition, but it wasn’t what I wanted. Caminus is big on tradition. So...yeah...I ran away and got caught by slavers, and they sold me to Swindle. He’s a jerk, by the way. I tried to tell him what happened and he said I was a horrible liar...which is probably true but I wasn’t lying in this case.” 

“It is rather unbelievable, master,” Orion whispered. “Why would he...she make up such an outlandish tale if it wasn’t true?” 

Ultra growled, angrily, and would have lashed out at Orion had Megatron not pulled him away. 

“You have what you wanted, Ultra,” Megatron said and pulled Orion close. He unfastened the collar and let it fall to the floor. 

Ultra looked from Rodimus, and back to Megatron, venting hard, “I suppose I do.” His optics settled on Rodimus. “Fine. Let’s go over the contract at my home. I will summon legal council if you wish.” 

“No, I think we will be fine,” Rodimus gave him a shy smile, and offered her hand.

Ultra took it and Orion watched them walk out of the room leaving him with the Protector. 

“What have you done?” Orion whispered. 

“I’ve given Ultra what he truly wanted. Don’t worry about him. I’m sure it will work out well enough,” Megatron rumbled. “The real question is, will you allow me to court you?” 

“I don’t know you,” Orion whispered. 

“No, you don’t. But I would like to remedy that. Both of us would,” Megatron smiled. “Will you allow me to court you?” 

“I---” 

“You don’t have to decide yet. Let me take you to the mech first and you may think on it,” the mech added, and put a hand in the small of Orion’s back as he lead him away.


	2. Chapter 2

Orion was not sure what to expect from a medic, but the gruff mech that fussed at him was not it. He was scanned and prodded at, far more gently than Orion had a feeling was usual for the mech. 

“Well, Orion, you have some choices to make. It seems that Ultra made more than a few alterations to your frame. Is there any you would like to keep?” 

Orion squirmed on the exam table, “I...I w-want the piercings removed. And that cap. And t-the locks on my sparkplates.” 

“All of that will be easy. I can even do that in one session,” the medic said gently. “Lie back on the berth and we can get started.” 

Megatron growled in the background, “Is he wounded?” 

“No, Protector. Magnus at least saw to his needs in that respect if nothing else. He is well.” 

“I’m fine,” Orion said, squinting at Megatron. “He never hurt me. Not really. And if I ever was injured he would take me to see a medic. He was not a bad master, my Lord.” 

“Megatron. Please.” 

Orion made a humming noise, and turned his attention back to Ratchet, wincing him as he numbed the area and began to remove the locks first. 

“You are going to need a repaint after this. Perhaps just a chromite touch up. The metal is healthy underneath at least,” Ratchet said. “I can recommend a good artist or two if you would like,” he said, but his attention was on Megatron.

“You say that like I would not know myself,” the Protector said. 

“Mmmm....perhaps,” Ratchet smiled. 

Ratchet removed the last of the locks, “Lets see how the mechanism works. Slide the plates open.” They creaked at first from disuse and then slid apart smoothly. The inner plates slid away to reveal the inner film and the untouched spark beneath. The spark was bright, and the palest of blues. 

Ratchet scanned it, and hummed happily, “Very healthy. You have a very fertile spark, little mech. If you ever do decide to spark you should do so easily.” 

Orion felt his cheekplates heating, “Mmm...that is good to know, I guess.” He had never really given much thought to sparklings, and even less once Ultra declared that he would not be allowed to bear any.

Ratchet laughed, and began to work on the piercings. He applied a filler to each one once the hoop had been removed, added a nanite gel, and applied a medical metch to each one, right up until he stopped at Orion’s panel. 

Orion let it snap open, baring his valve, and the cap over his spike. Ratchet grunted, “Well these are tricky to heal, there will be much more scarring than on your doorwings.” 

“Then leave it,” Orion shrugged. “Just remove the cap. I hate it.” 

“I imagine you do,” Ratchet agreed, and began to work on disengaging the lock. “At least it is a manual lock. These are so much easier to remove.” 

Orion offlined his optics, and let the medic work.

****************

Megatron watched the medic work, and battled not to move closer and snatch Orion away. The mech was so calm and quiet as the medic worked on, even when it was clear that it pained him.

*Ours! Ours!* the Star Saber sang in his processor. *Claim our mate.*

*No, you impatient, relic. We will court him first. We can’t just take him. It would scare him away,* Megatron growled back. 

*Lies!*

Megatron ex-vented, *No, it is the true. He had been used horribly. We need patience in this conquest.*

The relic gave the mental equivalent of a shrug. She had little patience for anything but battle, but he would not be rushed in this. Not when they were so very close. 

*Patience. He will be ours. We will claim him, but we must give him time to heal, and time to trust us.* 

She pouted worse than any sparkling, but eventually she stopped nagging him to claim their mate and sulked where she sat, attached to his back plating. 

She was rarely so insistent or so vocal when they were not in battle, it was odd, and also comforting. It was clear that she wanted the mech as much as he did. She would not protest when they bonded. It had always been a worry if he ever found a mate. He had read tales of her rejecting bonds, and worse things as well, draining the mechs life force during the ritual that followed. He did not want such a thing to happen to his intended mate. It was not a pleasant death. 

He felt a hum of disapproval, and disbelieve from her at that thought. She would never do that to their intended. She would never do that to Orion. She would do anything in her power to protect him, even sacrifice her own spark. She sent him another thought of the temple, persistently until there was no doubt that she wanted Megatron to take Orion there. 

The medic was done soon enough, and Orion looked relieved despite some of the bare patches in his paint. “Thank you,” he gave a little shy smile, and touched his neck. “Are you going to put the collar back on me now, master?” 

Megatron stilled, “No, Orion. You are free. You don’t have to wear a collar ever again. Never. You...you are free. You don’t have to even let me court you if you do not want. It is your choice.” He fished around in his subspace and offered a datapad, “Here are your papers.” He ignored the angry shrieks of Star Saber in his processor, and winced when they rose in volume. She seemed convinced that he was letting their mate leave them. “If you want I will set up an allowance for you and help you find a place of your own.”

Orion looked hurt. “You don’t want me, master?” 

“I want you very much, but I do not want you to feel that you are forced into this,” Megatron said. “What did you do before you were selected for the lottery? Perhaps I can find you something to occupy your time as well.” 

Orion blinked owlishly at him, “I was a data clerk.” 

“Would you like to continue that function?” Megatron asked, frowning at how conditioned the mech was. It made his spark ache. 

“Do you want me to?” Orion asked. 

“I want you to do what will make you happy.” 

Orion tilted his helm to the side, “My happiness does not matter.” 

Megatron’s frown deepened, and he called Ratchet back over, “I need you to check his coding.” 

The medic frowned, “That is illegal, Protector. Even in slaves.” 

“Just humor me.” 

Ratchet jacked into Orion’s medical port and scowled, “Slave coding, frag it. It’s not a complicated one at least. Let me see if I can unravel it.” 

The medic grumbled as he worked, his field angry and agitated enough that it made it uncomfortable to stand by him. Megatron still hovered as he worked, as distressed as Star Saber was by what had been done to their intended. 

“Stop hovering, I was able to remove it. The coding was not invasive at least. amateurish work at best.” He had end Orion offline and into a soft reboot.

“What did you do to me?” Orion asked in a shaky tone as he came back online. 

“We removed the slave coding that had been activated. How do you feel?” Ratchet asked. 

“T-truthfully? Terrified. W-what is g-going to h-happen to me?” Orion asked, and looked from Ratchet to Megatron and back. 

“I would like to court you, as I have said, but if you do not want to you will still be provided for,” Megatron said mustering up as much patience as he could. 

Orion’s plating ruffled and his arms wrapped around himself, hugging tightly. “Okay. I will give it a try. What do I have to lose? It’s not like I can go home.” 

“I’m sorry,” Megatron said, although he really wasn’t at all. The thought of the mech returning to Praxus made his spark clench painfully.

****************

They walked back to the Citadel, Orion craned his neck the whole walk, and stared at the towering structures around them as if seeing them for the first time. He completely ignored the mechs that stared and took image captures as they walked on. The Protector was never seen with a mech so obviously not a member of Cybertron’s army, or a Praxian for that matter. Even more odd was the lack of a collar on the Praxian.

“Are you serious...about courting me I mean. I can bring little to such a union.” 

“You bring yourself, and that is more than enough,” Megatron said. “I once had a vision from Primus of my future mate. I saw you, and I think that is reason enough to give this a try. If you are willing.” 

“I have nothing to lose, and no where to go. It hurts me little to give you a chance,” Orion gave him another shy smile and followed Megatron into the Citadel. 

“I already have had rooms prepared for you. I hope you approve. They are the rooms closest to the library. You may come and go there and borrow any pads you would like.” 

“Really?” The small mech asked and stopped. “Are you sure?” 

“Yes, I am sure. Let me show you the room. We can get you settled in, and get you fueled,” Megatron said as he lead Orion into the upper levels, and finally to the little set of rooms beside the library. They were not grand, but the Protector figured that these would give the mech the most comfort. 

“That would be nice, thank you.” Orion squinted up at him, “What did you mean earlier...when you said both of you? You don’t have a spark twin, do you?” 

“No...nothing like that. Not exactly,” the Protector gave him a thoughtful look. “How well do you understand the governmental structure of the empire?” 

“What does that have to do with anything,” Orion asked, puzzled. 

“Everything,” Megatron said. “Here we are ruled by a triumvirate. A spiritual leader, the Prime. A civilian leader, the Magnus. And a military leader---” 

“The Lord High Protector. Yes, I understand that,” Orion said. 

“We are not elected, or picked by the population, Orion. We are picked by three artifacts. The Matrix of Leadership, the Magnus Hammer, and the Star Saber. These artifacts are...they...posses sparks. Special sparks. They are sentient, and ancient. They find one mech to bond with once the previous bearer has passed.” 

“That---that is crazy. How could---” Orion took a step away from the Protector. “That’s crazy.” 

“No, it’s not. It is the truth.” He drew the sword from his back, and watched as Orion stepped back in fear. “I won’t hurt you. Just...touch the hilt and you will be able to hear her.” 

“Just touch it?” Orion asked, his hand hovered over the sword. 

“Yes,” Megatron agreed. 

Orion finally placed his hand on the hilt and startled as another field enveloped him. 

*Orion,* she purred in his mind, the mental caress making him shiver. *We’ve been hunting for you for so long.* 

“I-it speaks,” Orion squeaked.

*//She// speaks. Yes, I do,* came the same purring voice. 

Orion snatched his hand away with a little squeak. “It--She--s-s-she talks! She talked to me!” 

“Mmmmmm...indeed. She likes you very much, as do I,” Megatron said. “You have upset her, though. She will not bite, not you anyway.” 

Orion gave the sword a look of great mistrust, “I don’t know. Why...would she like me?” 

“I won’t lie. If you agree to the courtship and it takes it’s natural course we are a package deal.” 

“I see,” Orion said, his optics flicking from the warrior to the shield and back. He reached out tentatively and touched the sword again. 

*We have waited for you for so long,* she said, her field enveloping him again like a hug.


	3. Chapter 3

Orion settled in as best as he could into the strange surroundings. He took comfort in the library, it was his solace. He would lose himself for sols inside of it. It was not as big as the one he worked in back in Praxus, but there was a familiarity to it where the rest of the world was leaving him floundering. His neck felt naked, and the sudden freedom was jarring. 

“Orion? Are you in there?” 

“I am, Megatron,” Orion peaked over the top of the couch he had been curled, in, “Over here.” 

He touched the datapad he had been reading. He had found it on his desk earlier that day. It was, surprisingly, a collection of poems written by the mech who was seeking him out. That Megatron would gift him with something so personal warmed his spark. 

“You found my present, I see. What do you think?” Megatron asked, and looked him up and down. 

“You have a very interesting turn of phrase. They are...beautiful.” 

“I am glad you think so. I would like to take you to the temple. Would that be agreeable to you?” 

“I would like that very much,” he said and tucked the datapad in his subspace. 

He let Megatron lead him from the rooms, and down into the heart of the underground beneath the Citadel. The tunnels connecting the buildings towered high over their heads. Biolights lined the walls and leaving the hall glowing in a half-twilight. Megatron tucked Orion’s small hand in the crook of his arm, and they walked until they reached a towering doorway. 

“This is the entrance to the temple. Above is where mechs come to worship. The main altar is above, but below this level, is the Primal alter. Would you like to see it?” 

Orion’s optics widened, “Would that be...appropriate? I am no one.” 

“You are the most important mech in my world. I think think that makes you someone. Someone important. Primus brought us together for a reason.”

Orion vented softly, “I do not agree.”

“Then I shall make it my job to change your mind,” Megatron said and lead him through the towering doors. He followed Megatron through a side hallway and down the longest flight of stairs Orion had ever seen. 

Orion held on tightly to Megatron’s hand as they descended into the darkness below. The stairs wound around into a seeming void, which finally broke by a pale blue light. The staircase opened up into a large domed room, with a large blue spark pulsing in the middle. Orion shivered, stopping, “What is this place?” 

“It is our creator’s spark,” a voice said. It was one that Orion recognize, and yet it couldn't be... 

“M-megatron?” 

The Protector chuckled, “You should not startle mechs like that, Star.” 

A towering femme stepped from one of the shadow-cast acloves, “It is good to see you, Orion. Come here,” she said, curling a claw and beckoning him closer. 

“I don’t understand...” Orion trembled. “The sword...I heard...it was your voice. How are you...”

She took a step forward when he did not and pulled him close. “I fear we have stolen all of our mates words, Megatron.” The Protector hovered, watching what the femme would do.

Orion squirmed in his arms, “Who are you?” 

“Oh, Orion, can’t you tell from my field? I AM the sword. I am Starsabre. We hunted for you for so long.” 

“You are crazy. You can’t be.” 

“Oh, but I am, little mech. I am. I gave my spark to the blade rather than go to the Well. And this...this is the only place where you can see me as I am. I was one of the first born of the thirteen. I offline in the first war with the Quintessons. It was a long, long time ago. I have guided many Protectors.” 

Orion shook, “Y-you’re an Avatar.” 

“Yes, love. I am.” She pulled Orion close, and kissed him hard, making his ventilation stall. 

Megatron circled around them, “Don’t frighten him, Star. It is a lot to take in.” 

The femme glared at Megatron, bristling, “You made me wait. He is ours and you made me wait.” 

Orion whimpered, “This is too m-much.” He wiggled out of her grip, and stood on swaying legs, before they gave out and he fell to the floor. 

“I told you we should ease him into this,” Megatron chided, and carefully picked Orion up from the floor. He shook his helm and walked towards one of the altar rooms, and gently laid Orion on the berth within. “He is a delicate thing,” Megatron continued to chide Starsabre. 

The Avatar seemed to deflate, “He is hurt inside, Megatron. That stupid hammer bearing idiot did so much damage. Do you really think I could have sit back and waited.” She scowled. “Fragging Magnus. I wish he would have gone to the Pit instead of---” 

“I know.” 

“And the fragging bearer is just like him,” Starsabre continued to rant looking more irritated the longer she spoke. “Always was an arrogant sod. You don’t see me making my bearers take my name.” She glowered, “Do you? No. I wouldn't’ do that.” 

Megatron sat down beside Orion and listened to the Avatar rant. There was no talking to her when she was like that. His attention focused on Orion instead and the steady blue glow that surrounded him. Megatron vented in relief as Primus showed his acceptance and blessing of their union. 

It was a very good sign. The best sign the Protector could hope for.

oOoOoOo

Orion stirred, and curled into the warmth around him. He had never felt so safe or protected in his life. He curled closer, and cracked an optic open before onlining them completely. It wasn’t a dream...

He sat up, and reached out, touching the large femme that was on one side of him. 

Her gold optics opened, and it was clear that she had been awake a while, if she had recharged at all. 

“You feel real,” Orion blurted out.

“I am real, Orion. As real as you or Megatron...at least here. I’m real here.” 

Orion reached out, touching her face. “Why me?” 

“You’re a good mech. Isn’t that reason enough?” Starsabre asked. 

“No. No it’s not. I’m no one,” Orion whispered.

“You are someone very important. Primus brought us together,” she said leaning in and kissing him gently. “You are the most important mech in our world, and we will keep telling you that until you believe us.”

“That might be a very long time,” Orion whispered. 

“I know, but you will believe eventually.”


	4. Chapter 4

Starsabre clung to Orion. She knew he could not stay there forever, that they could not, but it was so hard to let go of him knowing that she had no idea how long it could be before she would hold him in her arms again. 

Megatron sat back and watched them both, optics bright. “You two look good together.” 

Orion’s vents became sharp, and energon rushed to his face. “M-megatron?” He seemed to shrink on himself, and Starsabre bristled. 

“What is wrong, Orion?” She tilted his helm up and looked at his wide optics. 

“H-he used to say that. He w-would bring bots home. He liked to watch,” Orion hid his face against her plating. “Sometimes they would hurt me.” 

Starsabre rumbled angrily, “Who did he make you interface with?” 

“I don’t know their names,” Orion said, his voice rising an octave. 

“Shhh...you are upsetting him, Star. Come, little one. I think it is time we leave,” Megatron said and crossed the room. He offered his hand, and Orion took it not seeing Starsabre’s thunderous expression. 

“I’m not ready to leave,” she said flatly. 

“You are never ready to leave, bonded, and yet we should go. You’ve upset Orion, and your temper-tantrum is not going to do any of us any good except upset him more,” Megatron said and pulled Orion close.

The avatar quivered with rage, but this time it was directed at her bearer, “No. You can’t. You just got here. I’ve waited so long to touch him. You can’t leave now.” 

“He is not a possession.” 

She curled her hands into fists, “I know he’s not. I just---I---I have just waited so long. Millenia. Please don’t leave so soon.” 

“We will be back,” Megatron said, and guided Orion towards the entryway. “I promise.”

She growled, but did not move to stop them, and soon abandoned her avatar form; her conscious slipping back into the sword with a grumble in Megatron’s processor. 

*He is safer down here.* 

*Perhaps, but we can’t hide him away, Star. He deserves to live,* Megatron said with more patience than he felt. 

“Where are we going?” Orion asked in a tiny voice as they began the long journey back. 

“To the market I think. We both need to fuel, at the least.” 

“Oh,” Orion said, and slipped his hand into Megatron’s. 

*It’s not safe up there. Somemecha could hurt him,* Starsabre hissed. 

“Do you like energon candies?” Megatron asked, ignoring the relics snarky grumbling. 

“I do,” Orion whispered. “Very much. My creator always said a bit too much.” His doorwings perked up. “Megatron---do you really mean what you said? You want to court me?” 

“I mean it, little one. We are both very serious in our suit. We have waited for you for a very long time.” 

“But do you want me...or the idea of me? You don’t even know me...and you act like we are fated. It’s very disconcerting.” 

Megatron gave Orion’s hand a squeeze. “It is a bit disconcerting for me as well. I was never sure you were real, and yet here you are. It was a shock seeing you. In truth...I had given up hope I would ever meet someone that made my spark feel this way.” He stopped for a moment, and looked down at Orion. “I want to get to know you. I had hoped that I had made that clear. I want to make this work between us...but if you do not...if you don’t want to try I will make sure you have a comfortable life.” 

They finally stepped out of the temple, and into the dim light. 

Megatron led Orion through the city with a purpose. Guards fanned out around them as they left the temple grounds and moved into the business district of Iacon. They walked, which gave Orion time to gawk. The little mech made the most interesting noises of shock and pleasure. It left Megatron feeling overheated. Their first stop was at a detailing shop. It was small, and surprisingly nondescript. Not a place that most would think that the Lord High Protector would frequent. 

The shop had a little sign hanging about the door proclaiming it The Gleaming Hilt. Megatron opened the door for Orion, and the guards lined up outside. The shop itself was neat and tidy. A little mech stood behind the counter and greeted them with a smile.

“Welcome, your lordship. It is good to see you again.” 

“It is good to see you as well, Nitpick. Is everything ready for our appointment?” 

“Oh yes, your lordship. Geode, Chrysalis, and Fossil are waiting for you in the back. We have the nanite treatment prepared as you asked when you commed me.” The mech smiled brightly. “You must be his lordship’s intended. Orion, right? It is a pleasure to meet you. Geode will be doing your detailing today, Orion. She has such a fine attention to detail. I hope you will enjoy our services.” The little mech lead them into the back room, which was much larger than it looked like it would be from the outside.

The femme that Nitpick had called Geode greeted them as they stepped inside, “Hello Orion. If you will follow me. We have a nanite soak waiting for you.” Orion was wide opticed as he was led away. 

Megatron did not have to wait long for his own detailers. Chrysalis and Fossil greeted him with their usual aplomb. “We have your room ready, your lordship. Will the Starsaber be requiring detailing as well?” 

“Of course. You know I only trust you to do a proper job of it, Fossil.” 

The little mech preened. “Thank you, your lordship. It means a lot to hear you say so. She would like for you to teach Orion to care for her one sol. You know how particular she is about such things.” 

“I know, and I would be honored to,” the little mech said as they finally entered the room. 

“What would you like today, sir?” Chrysalis asked. “A full detailing or just a buff and wax?” 

“Whatever you think is necessary. We have reservations for The Platinum Tower. You know their standards,” the Protector smirked. 

“Indeed, my lord. Your finish is still good from last time. I think perhaps just a wax and polish. We will have you shiny and presentable soon,” Chrysalis smiled.

oOoOoOo

Orion followed Geode into the largest washrack he had ever seen. “What are you going to do to me?” 

“Well, first we will clean you up. It looks like there is some build up on your plating, and then we will put you in a nanite bath. It will help restore the chromataphores that you have naturally.” 

“Then we will wash and wax you until you shine. That is the services his lordship requested. Have you ever been detailed before?” Geode asked. 

“N-no. I mean...n-not by another mech. I would always go to the public washracks at home...in Praxus that is. I was a data clerk. So it wasn’t really necessary, I guess. And---I just didn’t have the extra credits anyway. My stipend was small.” 

“Then you definitely deserve to be pampered,” the femme said, and led Orion into one of the stalls. She carefully cleaned his plating and stopped when she got to his doorwings. “Oh...it was not so evident before. You’ve been branded with the Magnus’ sigil. Oh dear. I’m not sure that is appropriate.” 

Orion hunched in on himself, as the femme commed someone, and eventually Megatron came in, gleaming brightly, his plating waxed to a liquid sheen. 

“Let me see,” he said, and frowned when Orion flared his wings out. The scarring was faint, but so much more evident when it was wet and clean. 

“What are our options?” Megatron asked. 

“It’s going to need to be removed by a medic...if you are wanting it removed,” Geode said carefully. “They will need to strip off a the nanites and a layer of the metal below. What I can do id disguise it until you can get him to a medic. I can paint on a pattern over it. Perhaps the Protector’s mark? Or something of that nature?” 

“It is up to Orion, of course,” Megatron said. “What you like, my dearest?” 

Orion’s field flared at the endearment, “I would prefer your mark to his. Please.” 

“Good, let us finish up and then we can begin the design,” Geode said. “Thank you, my lord.” 

It all took far longer than Orion anticipated. Geode finished gleaning his plating, and then lead him to the nanite soak. He was almost in recharge by the time the mech pulled him back out and washed his plating again. 

It was hard to sit still as the femme painted the mark on the back of his wings, and added matching details on the rest of his plating. It seemed to take an age, but she put a sealant on it, and eventually waxed him to as gloss of a shine as Megatron. 

Finally she stood him in front of a set of mirrors to show his plating off to him. It left Orion speechless. He looked beautiful.

oOoOoOo

Megatron stared as Orion was brought out to where he was waiting. His vents stuck in his chest, and Star purred along their bond as she watched their bonded-to-be through his optics. 

*He is a vision.* 

Megatron’s vents stuttered, *He is radiant. Beautiful.* 

“How do I look?” Orion asked, his lips curled into a smile. He turned around slowly, and flared his wings showing off the intricate gold lines of the Protector’s Mark that were echoed on the Starsaber itself. 

Star purred loudly across the bond, pleased beyond all measure that their mech had chosen to take up their mark, however temporary. 

“You look amazing,” Megatron said, he took Orion’s hand in his own, and bowed before it, kissing the knuckles. His options were fixed on Orion’s face the entire time. “We should go. Our reservations are drawing near.” 

Orion’s wings perked up, “Where did you say we were going?” 

“The Platinum Tower. I think you will enjoy it.” He offered his hand, “The transport is waiting for us.”

oOoOoOo

The Platinum Tower glimmered in the low light. It was an imposing structure, and made Orion’s spark quaver with nervousness. He held on tightly to Megatron’s hand, and walked as closely to him as he could when they entered the establishment. It was dim inside, but the walls glimmered with mirrors and intricately cut marble. It spoke of wealth. Few could import such organic materials. Orion had not seen such things apart from the palace and temple complex. He felt horribly out of place, even on Megatron’s arm. 

Mecha stared as they walked by. Megatron didn’t seem to notice. He just led Orion through the restaurant, “Your usual table sir?” 

“No, something towards the back I think.” 

“Will you be requiring a floor pillow for your pet?” the waiter asked blithely.

Orion hunched his shoulders, his wings drooping at the mech’s careless words. He might have even ran away had Megatron not sensed his distress and put a hand on his shoulder, keeping him in place.

“He is not a pet. He is my intended.” 

The waiter paused, suddenly realising his error and his danger. “Oh---Oh---I do beg your pardon---sir. I’m sorry---it was just---just the wings, sir.” 

“Just show us to our booth, and get me your manager,” Megatron hissed, his patience growing very thin to Orion’s perception. 

“Can we just go home,” Orion whispered, vents hitching.

“No, no. We will not. They will apologize,” Megatron said, and glared at the waiter. 

The mech trembled, “I’m sorry. I’m very sorry. I-I meant no insult to you or your bonded to be. I---I am so sorry,” the mech said looking to Orion pleadingly. 

“It’s fine. Can you please just get us our drinks. Please,” Orion said, and slid into the booth. 

Megatron glared at the waiter, his optics narrowing dangerously, but he slid into the booth with Optimus, and put his arm protectively around the smaller mech. “Get us two cubes of the mid-grade with silver sprinkles, and a menu.” 

“Yes, sir, of course, sir,” the waiter said and dashed off. 

A few kliks later a different mech came out bearing the tray with the cubes on it, “I do apologize for any misunderstandings. I am Truffle, the manager of this establishment. I will be waiting on you today.” He handed them both a menu, “Do you need a few kliks to look over the menu?” 

“No, no. Get us the sampler platter. The largest one, and two slices of crystal cake,” Megatron said. 

“Anything else your lordship?” 

“No.I think that will be enough for now,” The Protector said. He watched the mech walk away and pulled Orion more closely.

“I am sorry,” Megatron said when the mech had left. “Had I known this would happen I would not have suggested such a place.” 

Orion relaxed minutely, and finally leaned against Megatron. He let his field expand. “It’s fine. They were only words, and he apologized. It is not like I was in any danger.” His lips curled into a little amused smile, “I’m sure Star had much to say about it.” 

Megatron chuckled, “That is beyond an understatement.” He leaned in, and pressed a kiss against Orion’s grown. “She is still mad that we left the temple. She is...unreasonable at times. But I promise she is worth all of the trouble.” 

Orion nodded, “I get that feeling about you both.” 

“I would go to the pit and back for you.” 

“I get that feeling too,” Orion said, and shivered.

The waiter came back bearing a large tray, as well as a smaller one with a full crystal cake on it. Orion stared at it hungrily. When he had been a clerk he had rarely been able to afford such indulgences, and as Ultra Magnus’ slave he had rarely been allowed such treats. His previous master did not believe in giving berth toys food meant for nobles. He nearly drooled at the the sight of the tin tarts and the intricately decorated mercury and crystal tarts. 

Megatron stared at Orion, “May I feed you?” 

Orion’s doorwings ruffled in exasperation, “Please.” 

Megatron gently picked up one of the tartlettes in his claws and offered it to Orion. The Praxian leaned in, daintily eating it from those sharp claws, his glossa flicking out to clean away the crumbs. “Delicious.” 

Megatron revved loudly, “Not as much as you.” The Protector leaned in, stealing a kiss. “Star wants us to bring some back to the temple. She is terribly jealous at the moment.” 

“I would like that. I---I like being with the both of you.”


	5. Chapter 5

The restaurant wore Orion out so much so that he was half in recharge by the time the transport came back for him. Megatron carried him gently in his arms, and held him the entire trip back to the citadel. He felt safe, which was a pleasant surprise when he puzzled it out.

Megatron carried him into the complex when the transport stopped, and up into the tower where he dwelt. The berth that Orion was placed on was the softest he had ever felt. He didn’t shy away when the bigger mech curled around him. It felt right. “Thank you.” 

“For what?” Megatron rumbled. 

“For bringing me here. For---for rescuing me,” Orion said, fumbling for the words. “You have given me hope that things can be better.” 

“They will be. I will do whatever I can to make them so.” 

Orion looked up at him, optics dim as he fought off recharge, “You can’t change the world, Megatron.” 

The Protector growled, and pulled Orion closer, “Can’t I? I’m the High Lord Protector.” 

“Even you have to follow the rules,” Orion mumbled, and finally lost his battle with sleep. 

Megatron grunted, pulled Orion onto his chest, and tucked the mech around them both. “We’ll see, little mech. Maybe I will surprise us both.” 

*You worry too much,* Starsabre grumbled in his processer. *Things will work out fine. We will win him over. Look how far we have come already.* 

*It’s not just that, Star. It’s---the others. These are sentient beings. They should not be possessions. Orion should never have gone through what he had. Bought and sold, and cast out from his home. It is deplorable.*

*It has been the way of things for a long time, Megatron.*

*Then it is past time that things were change,* He growled back. 

*It is a dangerous way, my bonded.* 

Megatron rolled his optics, *When has that ever stopped you from plowing through a problem. This is one like any other. We break the defence and we will win.*

Starsabre was quiet for a few kliks, *It will be dangerous for him. We must protect him. I won’t lose out mate to this new crusade of yours. There is someone in the temple that could help us.*

*Someone? What are you speaking of? Who do you even know in the Prime’s domain?* 

Megatron could tell she would have been smiling, *It is time to wake my twin.*

“What? What are you talking about?” he said aloud, and shifted, accidentally jostling Orion. Thankfully the little mech did not wake, he merely clung to Megatron’s armour and made a sleepy little mewl. *What are you talking about?*

Starsabre purred in his processer, sounding smug when she finally began to speak, *My brother, Skyreaver, inhabits the Skyboom Shield. He will protect Orion. We just have to fetch him from the temple.*

*You think we can just waltz in there and take one of the sacred relics?*

*Or have someone steal it for us. Surely you know know someone of ill-repute that would be willing to procure what we need.* 

Megatron groaned, what had he gotten himself into? *Fine. I’ll see what I can do.*

oOoOoOo

Megatron knew exactly the mecha---or femme in this case--- for the job. He had some reservation. Filch was just as likely to steal the shield away for herself as she was to give it up. She canted her helm to the side, listening to him intently, seemingly so until her optics would stray back to the chest set on the table. She reached for it, her hands sneaking across the table. Megatron did not hesitate to slap them away. 

“No. You will get it when you bring us back the shield.” 

“Shinies.” 

“After you bring back the shield,” Megatron said more firmly. 

“Shiiinies,” she said in a mournful voice, and reached for them again. She cowered away when Megatron growled. “Fine. I get your shield,” she said, standing with a scowl. “Better be worth the trouble.” 

“It will be,” Megatron promised. 

Filch chirped, ruffling her metal feathers, “Better be.” She transformer, and flit off before he could reassure her again. 

*Are you sure about this?* Starsabre fretter in his processor. *Do you think she will bring him back?*

*If not...I will find her. It is not a difficult thing. Femme won’t leave her hoard,* Megatron venter loudly. He picked up the chest and took it to the vault, locking it up tight before going back to where Orion was still sprawled across the berth. 

The blue and red mech cracked an optic open, “You left me. What happened?” 

“Nothing you need to worry about, Orion. Everything is fine. Did you recharge well?” 

“I did,” Orion said shyly. “Very well.”

“Good. Would you like to go to the market today? We can break our fast there. How are your fuel levels?” 

“I’m at half a tank. I’m not used to being that...full,” Orion said. His browplates wrinkling. “I could refuel, but not much. I wouldn't mind more candies...but not too many. Ultra said if I ate candies my protoform would swell, and I would look disgusting.” 

Megatron grunted, and pulled Orion into a tight hug, “You can eat as many candies as you want. I will adore you regardless.” 

Orion hugged him back, and pressed a kiss against Megatron’s cheek, and than his lips. The kiss was chaste, but still made Megatron’s core temperature raise. Orion kissed him again, clinging this time, and pressing his little frame against the Protector’s. 

“You don’t have to do this, Orion,” Megatron finally bit out. 

Orion stopped, scuttled back and hunched in on himself. “I’m sorry. I thought---I thought you wanted me.” 

“I do. More than anything. You are all I---we have ever wanted. But I don’t want you to feel like you are forced into this. I-I want you to want me too,” the warframe stumbled over the words, far less sure of himself. 

Orion frowned at his words, “I do. I think.” 

“Wait till you’re sure. I’m not going anywhere.” He stood and offered his hand. “Lets go to the market then. We will get you those sweets. Perhaps some crystal pieces?” 

Orion gave him a wobbly smile, and put his hand in Megatron’s much bigger one. “I would like that. I was also wondering. I---I know I can’t go back to Praxus, but would there be any way you could contact my family? I would like for them to know that I am safe.” 

“I will set up a vid call for you. Just give me time. I have to contact a few mechs to get it arranged.” 

“You would do that for me? You will let me talk to them? A-actually see them and speak to them?” 

“I will do the best that I can,” Megatron said.


	6. Chapter 6

The market was far bigger than the one held in Praxus. There was row upon row of stalls, each one full of colourful wares, and loud patrons vying to buy them. Orion shrank back, hiding in Megatron’s shadow as they walked. 

“There is so much here. Too much,” Orion whispered in awe, and moved so close to Megatron he was nearly glued to his plating. “It’s too much,” Orion muttered again, and his hand tightened on Megatron’s. 

Megatron looked down at him thoughtfully, and lead him to an enclosed shop on the edge of the market. They were greeted by a minibot with spectacles perched on his nasal ridge.

“Protector Megatron, what can I do for you today?” 

“I need a ready-made cape for my intended. What do you have in his resizing, Quickmend?” The little mech tutted, and drew out a measuring tape, quickly taking Orion’s measurements. “I have a few that might fit him. Are you wanting custom items as well?” 

“I do. What do you think, Orion. A few capes? What else would you like?” Megatron asked. 

Orion blinked up at him owlishly, “I can chose?” 

“Of course you can,” Quick mend said, “Come, come, let me show you the swatches. I think, perhaps something in white or silver would compliment your colouring well. Perhaps a light blue to match your optics.” 

“Whatever you think is best,” Orion said. “We don’t such things are not worn in Praxus. I would not even know where to start.” 

Quickmend nodded, “I will take care of you then. Would you like the Protector’s sigel on the garments? And perhaps something to cover your wings?” 

“Oh...that would be nice,” Orion said. “Very nice. Whatever you think is best.” 

The tailor snorted, “Wait here.” He trundled back to the back of the stall, and came back with a cloak in a dark blue with gold embroidery. “I think this one will work out nicely. It has wing slits in the back, and the hood will keep you covered up.” He helped Orion drape the cape over him, and laced it together in the back. “There, there. Very nice. Good length too. Let me look at you.” The tailor smiled, “What do you think, your lordship?” 

“I think he looks beautiful. Thank you Quickmend. Have the rest delivered to the compound. This should cover it,” he said and passed the tailor a credit chip. “Thank you.” 

The tailor bowed deeply, “It is my honor, Protector.” 

“The honor is mine, I assure you,” Megatron laughed as he steered Orion out of the shop, “Better?” he asked as he led Orion into the path between the tents. “How about those treats now?” 

“Yes, it is better,” Orion whispered. It didn’t feel like everyone was staring at him.

The stall that they stopped at next was a confectioner. Orion trembled with excitement as he took in all of the varieties of candied energon. There was a rainbow of colours spread out before him. Every shade in his spectrum of sight. “Oh....there are so many choices.” 

“One of each, and have them delivered to the palace complex. And for now, I want a bagged sample of the crystal mix.” 

The merchant looked stunned for a moment, and then quickly bagged up the crystals, and handed the bag over to Megatron, who passed it to Orion. Another credit chip was passed, arrangements were made, and Orion stared in a daze.

“You didn’t have to buy them all,” Orion whispered. 

“You will like them, and it is good to support local artisans,” The Protector said as them moved on. “Besides, I want to spoil you.” 

“You dont’ have to do this. I like you regardless.” 

“I want to. You deserve the best of everything. The very best I can give you,” The protector stopped and tilted Orion’s chin up. “You are a good mech and deserve to be treated like the treasure you are.” 

“Ever the poet.” 

Megatron cuckled, “Perhaps.” 

They stopped by a stall filled with datapads, and sent away one of Megatron’s guards with his arms overflowing with datapads. Then a jeweler to Orion’s protest. Megatron tucked those boxes in his own subspace, deeming them far too valuable to leave in anyone elses hands. 

“Star would like us to look at armor and weapons next. Would that be okay with you?” 

“For me?” Orion squeaked. “I don’t know anything about weapons. I like my armor.” 

“I know, but it would not hurt to learn how to protect yourself,” Megatron said. 

“You will protect me,” Orion said. 

“I will, but I cannot always be by your side,” Megatron said carefully. 

“Then we will look at weapons,” Orion said. “I’m not adverse to learning that...I just don’t think it will help. It was never my function.” 

“Perhaps not, but we are more than our function, Orion,” Megatron said, putting an arm around him. 

Orion leaned into him and sucked on one of the crystal treats. “If you say so, Megatron.” 

“I do, little mech.”

oOoOoOo

Starsabre watched through Megatron’s optics as Orion looked at the swords laid out on the table. She growled in her bearer’s processor, complaining loudly enough to give him a processor ache.

*Why is he lingering over them?*

*They are just swords, and as you should recall we told him to. It’s not like they are sentient.*

*You have not proof of that,* Starsabre snapped back loudly, *They could be lying in wait to take him away from us.*

Megatron palmed his hand across his face, *You are being neurotic.* He moved closer to Orion, “Have you found something that catches your optic?”

“I don’t know,” Orion said, and ran his hand against the hilt of one of the short swords. “I’m not sure how to use any of them.” 

*Tell him to stop fondling that hilt! I won’t stand for it!* Starabre barked. 

*I am not telling him that. Primus on a perch, no. I am not telling him that. This WAS your suggestion, as I recall.* 

She sulked, a silent, and disapproving presence in his processor as he helped Orion look through the weapons offered for sale. 

“I like these two,”Orion finally said and held up a small axe and a little dagger. 

“Let me look at those. Yes, that should work. They have a nice edge on them.”

*Are you kidding me! That is a denta pick, not a knife! He couldn't’ hurt a mech with that thing,* Starsabre exclaimed. *He can’t protect himself with that...but I also can’t see any sensible Cybertronian taking up residence in those things.*

*Starsabre...nevermind...you aren’t even going to listen.* He pasted on a smile for Orion, “We will have to give you lessons I think. We do want you to be able to protect yourself.” 

Orion beamed, “You would help me with that?” 

“Of course. We both want you safe.” 

Orion flung himself around Megatron, hugging him tightly, “You really don’t do you?” 

“Don’t what?” Megatron asked, hugging him back tightly. 

“Think of me as just a pretty toy to decorate your berth,” Orion said and buried his face against Megatron’s plating.

*How can he even think that,* Starsabre screeched. 

*He was abused. You seem to forget how Magnus treated him,* Megatron gathered Orion into his arms, “No, we don't’ think that. You are our intended. Our partner.” 

Orion positively glowed at the suggestion, “I won’t lie...I had doubted the truth of your words before, but I believe you now. I will bond with you...if you want me.”


End file.
